


Truly Shattered

by MasterSatanOverlord



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Insane Peter Parker, M/M, Perceived Underage Touching/Kissing, Sane Wade Wilson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 03:04:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11819913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterSatanOverlord/pseuds/MasterSatanOverlord
Summary: Summary inside, WILL CONTAIN SPIDEYPOOL (don't like? DON'T READ!)! I own none of the characters, only the story! Rated M for sexual content as well as character death (in alternate ending), and gore.





	1. Delicious Cylinders

Swinging through the city at sunset, that sounds so romantic, but it's therapy. Away from all human contact, but still hearing the sounds of traffic and people talking on their phones, walking with friends and talking in groups, each one shouting over another, fighting for their voice to have dominance. The unending buzz of life at all times of the day, available only in cities such as New York, soothe me, calmed me after a day of muggings and bank robberies. This would be a perfect end to any day if my Spider-sense didn't go off just then, alerting me to some sort of trouble only a couple blocks away from where I am currently perched on a rooftop, looking down at the busy streets. Sighing, I begin slinging webs again, this time a destination in mind.

Reaching the alley the distress signal was coming from, I stick myself, hidden, onto a building to check out what was happening. Just another mugging in the process of becoming rape. I observe for a bit, checking to see if the black haired man was armed or even anyone who seemed dangerous other than his obvious drunken libido taking control of him.

"Hey! The nice lady doesn't look like she's all that into you buddy!" The man, tall and scraggly looking, smelling of alcohol, turned toward me right as I swung in and my foot made contact with his face, it seemed that's all it took to knock him out as his grip on the girl loosened and he dropped to the ground. She was on her way to collapsing on top of him, but I steady her before she sways to the point of tipping. Wrapping him in webbing, I take the woman around her waist and lift them both, attaching the man to the front of the building, before spotting and flagging down a pair of cops before swinging off.

"So Ma'am, where do you need to be?" She hadn't spoken yet, most likely shock, the silent ones were the ones you had to be wary of too, but she manages to give me an answer, so I don't worry so much, and I eventually get there and set her down in front of the building, waiting to make sure she got in okay before I shoot webbing onto the next building, ready to continue my patrol, when I hear a heavy thump, like a large person sticking a landing from a fairly high place, and a loud snapping crack sounding almost in synchronization with the whack of heavy boots against concrete and my nerves go jumpy again.

"So baby boy, you play the damsel in distress game?" I groan internally and aloud, pained, the last person I ever wanted to see, Deadpool. I turn to look at the mercenary who appears to have just broken his leg from jumping from the roof of a building behind me.

"And what brings you here Deadpool?"

He thumps a hand over his heart and staggers backward, clutching his chest. "Can't I just want to see my Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, maybe get an autograph? Or picture?" He gasps then straightens up, rummaging around in his pocket before pulling out a cell phone with a chibi Deadpool case with the arms and legs hanging off the side, making the case an awkward shape but perfectly adorable, I really don't get his obsession with his own merch, and walks toward me, "Can we? Can we please?" I sigh quietly and closed the distance between us, putting one arm around his waist and leaning into the camera's view and doing a peace sign with my left hand near my face. His right arm goes over my shoulders and he yanks up half his mask to show off a truly brilliant smile, "Hey Spidey..?" The tone of his voice made me drop my peace hand to my side again, glancing over at him. He had somehow maneuvered facing me and his mouth connected to mine through my mask. My eyes go wide beneath the fabric, my cheeks suddenly flushing, definitely grateful for the whole secret identity thing requiring a mask to work out, as both hands go to his chest to push him off, but before I can shove the schizophrenic, cancer-ridden man off me, he snaps the picture then dances backward, making the force I was exerting pointless and even making me stagger back a few steps to regain my balance.

"Deadpool! You-" I really want to yell at him, to sling profanities and terribly untrue words about how much I hate him, but I know I can't do that. He already hated himself enough without me adding fuel to the fire.

"If I had asked for a kiss, would you have said yes?" The man cuts me off, not allowing me to finish.

"No, but-"

"Exactly. I might look tough and act like I don't really care, but everyone needs affection. Even a monster like me. Right?" I had known he hated himself but did he really think he was a monster? This serious, more insightful comment from him made me pause, thinking that maybe in the time I hadn't seen him, he had matured. "Just kiddin'! I just wanted to see if I could coerce you out of your Spidey pants with a kiss." Nope. That was the same Deadpool. "Come on, let's go get chimichangas! Celebrate your victory! You can even think of it as a first date if you want." He grabs my hand and drags me along with him, not caring for my answer, especially not if I were to say no.

Deciding to humor him, I go along willingly, mostly so my shoulder isn't popped out of place. "Yes, sir." I give a salute and continue on with him until we reach a small hidden taco truck. There's a park bench nearby and he directs me to it, pushing on my shoulders to sit me down.

"Now, be a good Spidey and stay or I might have to lock you in place next time." He points a finger at me, like a scolding mother warning her child. I nod and he turns, practically skipping over to the truck to order. I roll my eyes as he comes back holding two very large, tinfoil wrapped cylinders. As he got closer I can smell the aroma of the burritos and it made my mouth water and stomach grumble in anticipation. He sits opposite me and places one of the delicious smelling packages in front of me.

"Eat up baby boy." He rolls his mask up again and unwraps part of the burrito and takes a huge bite. I tug my own mask up to rest slightly higher than usual in company, on the bridge of my nose, before digging in myself. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until I got the beautiful morsel in my mouth, I had to hold back a moan of 'OhgodthisisthemostdeliciousfoodI'veevereaten' as I chew slowly, savoring the wow factor it has. After a few bites, I pause.

"Thanks, Deadpool…" When he doesn't respond, I glance up, finding him staring at me. "Wh-what?" I feel suddenly nervous, so I shove the burrito into my mouth.

"I've never seen your nose before Spidey! It's so cute!~" He reaches forward and taps my nose with the tip of his gloved index finger, I jump slightly, not expecting his touch.

"Umm…" I try to speak around the cylindric deliciousness that's still lodged in my mouth.

"I bet you have nice eyes too. You have a really nice face. What color are your eyes?"

"Brown." I don't know what to do but answer him. The man nods silently, almost contemplatively, as he carries on eating. I finish as quickly as I can then hang out a few more minutes, not wanting him to feel like I was abandoning him. "Thanks again, but I really gotta go. See ya later DP!" He waves, slightly despondently, and I swing off to my apartment. Changing into my pajamas that most definitely are NOT a Deadpool shirt and a pair of boxers, I lay down in bed, wondering what tomorrow would bring as I drifted off to sleep.

My phone starts ringing, waking me up at an ungodly hour, but I have to answer because it's the phone I use as Spider-Man. My voice is rough with sleep as I answer the call from, thank caller ID, Tony.

"Yeah? What's happening at four in the morning that can't wait?"

"I thought you'd like to know that your friend is here." He stresses 'friend' to a degree I know exactly who it is.

"I'll be there in a minute." I sigh, pulling on my Spidey suit while still talking and mourning the loss of my best friend, sleep.

"Hurry up, I'm not sure how much of him I can handle."

"Be there in a minute," I repeat then hang up, pull on my mask and Spidey my way to Stark Tower. I swing through an open window and call out to my kind-of father, Tony. He bursts into the room looking a comical mix of distraught and relieved. He practically tackles me into a hug, as though I hadn't seen him in years when in truth we just saw each other earlier that day.

"Peter! I'm so glad you're here! I love the kid, I do, but he's definitely more manageable with you here." He speaks quietly at first so even I can barely hear my name, then it rises to a low whisper. "He's in the living room."

"Yeah, I'll take care of it. Go back to bed. I'm sure Steve misses you already." I walk out before he can say anything, though I do catch sight of a slight blush across his cheeks, and go to the aforementioned room. "Deadpool? Why are you here so early? Scratch that. Why are you here at all?" He looks up from the T.V. that was turned on to a low volume setting, tuned into some show I didn't recognize.

"I like bothering your dads!" He says as though it's the simplest thing in the world.

"At four in the morning? Is that necessary?" He takes up a stance that is obviously pouty.

"Mrs. and Mr. Stark are great. Even this early they make sure I'm okay, feed me, give me a beer, then call you. You three are the only ones who act like you give half a shit." I was slightly worried. It wasn't often Deadpool started talking like this and this was the second time in two days.

"What's wrong?" I move closer, sitting on the floor next to the couch he's lounging on, and place my hand on his bicep, bulging as he flexes, tensing up as my touch drew nearer his arms folded against his chest.

"I had a nightmare Spidey! Can I sleep in your room tonight?" His voice becomes a slightly higher pitch, the falsetto making him sound like a small, scared child. Or maybe the fear was always there and no one can tell because they were so used to thinking of him as strong, resilient, unbreakable. He shifted easily and without missing a beat from serious to the joking again. He never let anyone in, especially, it seemed, me, once he realized he was being even the slightest bit serious, he shut it back down.

"Yeah, come on. Dad might be made of metal half the time, but he still needs sleep." I take his hand and tug gently.

"You serious?" He sits up straight, alert.

"Y-yeah..?"

"C'mon Webby, you don't want someone like me crashing your Spidey-cave." He settles back against the sofa, resuming his previous positioning.

"And why not? You're my friend, if you need somewhere to go, I'm here to help you." I place my hands on my hips, staring at him pointedly. He yanks off his mask and looks up at me, his face looked just as 'frightful' as usual, evidently one of his better days, some of the cancer wounds open and weeping, but that was the minority, the rest looked dry, almost healthy.

"Could I really be your friend? Can you really say I'm your friend when I look like this?" This was a rare moment when I truly wanted to slap him. Was he seriously accusing me of being that shallow? Did he really think I cared what he looked like?

"Seriously?! Do you think I'm such a douche that I would hate you for something you have no control over?!" He turns to look away from me as he returns his mask to his face, so I turn my back to him. "Get on." After a moment of hesitation, I have to question. "Didn't you always want to go on a Spidey back ride?" He wastes next to no time jumping onto my back, his legs wrapping around my waist and his arms around my neck and shoulders.

I swing from Stark Tower back to my apartment where I had left the window unlocked so I slide it open and crawl in, making sure I don't whack Deadpool's head. Once we were in, I straighten up to allow Deadpool to shimmy down and off of me as I turn and shut the window, not bothering to lock it, there were two super-powered men to hold their own in the apartment. What was the point really? I flop down onto my bed to sleep some more, just another hour or two, after telling the man he can sleep wherever he wanted. I feel the bed dip under his weight and his finger jabbing lightly into my arm.

"Yeah?" I roll over to look at him and see that he's holding up the shirt I had shucked off earlier, my Deadpool pajama shirt. I never wanted him to know I had that, but I didn't think he'd be crashing my place otherwise I would have hidden it.

"You have my merch!" He yanks it over my head before I can protest. "It looks good on you! Why don't you wear this every day?" I look up at him, having no words, I figure I'll sleep on it and come up with some good reason I have it in the morning.

"Go to sleep." With that, I turn and curl up, comfortable except the shirt that was only half on. And so, for comfort's sake, I push my arms through their designated holes. Snuggling into bed, I feel the heat of Deadpool laying beside me, I move back a bit, my upper back and shoulder blades touching him lightly. One of his arms goes under my head, like a pillow of rock solid muscle, and the other wraps around my waist gently, as if afraid of rejection. I move, pressing myself more firmly against his chest, my right hand intertwining fingers with his hand resting against my stomach.

I refuse to admit that was the best night of sleep I had in a while, but I woke to a cool bed, empty of any signs Deadpool had been there, and the scent of pancakes in the air. I sit up, slightly confused and covered in sweat, my skintight Spidey suit, a tee shirt, and a blanket apparently was too much heat for my body to handle. I took everything off, save for my mask and boxers, but then threw the Deadpool shirt back on.

Making my way to the kitchen, a hand on the wall to ensure I don't fall. And so I find Deadpool in front of the stove, in a black and red French maid costume, making breakfast. This was the most bizarre morning of my life, almost.

"Spidey! You want some of Deadpool's world famous pancakes?" He holds out a plate stacked high with what looked like chocolate chip pancakes, I raise an eyebrow at him, defying every unspoken rule between us, I question him.

"World famous? Then why haven't I heard of them until now?" Despite my words of inquiry and doubt, I snatch one quickly from the plate before he has a chance to pull the plate back in indignation or perceived blasphemy on my part. He looks to me and suddenly ceases all movement, setting down his platter of circular, cooked, delectableness and turning the knob on the stove to turn off the white to blue to orange flame, he takes a few steps toward me right as I stuff the whole pancake in my mouth, luckily it was on the smaller side. It was sweet, but not overbearingly so, and fluffy, it was small in size but thick. Altogether, pretty much perfect.

He reaches a hand out, stroking my cheek, my jaw, a second hand is added somewhere along the other side of my neck, moving down my throat, then sliding back up. Before I realize it, his thumbs are underneath the not quite spandex material of my mask and pulling it up, uncovering my face inch by inch. I know how much stronger he is than me, how easily he can pin me then continue by force, so I don't bother fighting. I might even slightly encourage becoming unmasked, lifting my chin, looking him in the eye as the fabric is moved higher and higher. But it never quite reaches my eyes. He pulls his hands back and tugs his own mask up to the same level as mine, revealing most of his face, cutting off at his temples and covering his eyes and the bridge of his nose, so it looked like a bunched up raccoon mask, showing the cancer wounds on his cheeks, chin and even his nose. Then his slightly chapped, dry but warm lips met mine.


	2. Voices

I wasn't quite sure how to proceed with the situation, but my automatic response shouldn't be pulling him closer and deepening the kiss. I feel him startle when I grab the sheer fabric at his chest and yank him into me. He tasted surprisingly good, despite the slight flavor of blood tingeing the sweetness of strawberries, maple syrup, and pancakes. His hands go to my waist and my hands go up his neck to the back of his head and hold him tightly, the kiss turns sloppy and I have to pull back for a moment to breathe. He still looks [moderately](https://www.fanfiction.net/story/story_preview.php?storyid=11078754&chapter=2/#) surprised at my reaction to his kiss, and with good reason, I was shocked as well. I never really showed him any sort  _anything_  to make him think I am even the least bit attracted to him.

I have absolutely no idea what I am doing. Well, I mean,  _clearly_  I know what I'm doing, but it is utterly irrational. There is no reasoning logical, or illogical, enough to explain why I was standing there, in my kitchen, wearing little more than Deadpool merch, making out,  _not saying I liked it! Definitely not!,_  with the unstable mercenary that I knew next to nothing about. I didn't even know what this (presumably attractive) man looked like! He pulled away from me quickly, completely, like I had burned and singed his already blistered and wounded skin through the flimsy fabric of the skimpy uniform ( _Where did he get that thing from anyway?)_  he was wearing. Before I could ask him, he was walking away. Throwing over his shoulder, "Later Spidey! Enjoy those pancakes!" He walks out then, using the door like a normal person. I sigh then check out what damage had been done to my apartment, the total rally was surprisingly small, just some of the batter sticky and already drying splattered randomly in a few place on the counter.

I clean up, finishing up the [early morning](https://www.fanfiction.net/story/story_preview.php?storyid=11078754&chapter=2/#) sweets already pooled on the pan. Bringing the huge stack of pancakes back to my room, I set them on the bedside table and flop down on the breakfast Deadpool had made me. I eat until my stomach aches, but it is worth it, even as I lay back in my bed and clutch at my now slightly rounded belly **. Damn, for an[intelligent person](https://www.fanfiction.net/story/story_preview.php?storyid=11078754&chapter=2/#), you're really stupid…**  "Shut up."  **Well, you're just gonna lay there? You have homework to do and pictures to take and you're just going to** _ **lay there**_ **?**  "Dammit! I said shut up!" Despite my desperate wish to ignore the stupid conscious inside me, I knew I had a point. Groaning, I push myself up and to my desk covered in papers, notes, and text books of various subjects.  **Good. You can't afford to procrastinate**. "Yah yah. I  _know._ " And so I kill a good few hours tying up loose ends on my fifty [assignments](https://www.fanfiction.net/story/story_preview.php?storyid=11078754&chapter=2/#).  **Let's go, Petey, you gotta get those pictures of Spidey for Jameson.**  "Yeah, I know, shut up me." They say Deadpool is crazy. At least he doesn't talk to himself. As far as I can tell anyway. I need to stop talking to myself…  **Then stop and just change Spidey!**  Damn, I hate how I'm right. I pull off the Deadpool shirt I hadn't changed out of yet and pull on my Spider-Man costume.  **Go get 'em, tiger!**  An almost growl erupts from my throat. "Even if you are me, only MJ can call me that!" I was now swinging from buildings, pausing occasionally to snap some pictures and the voice quiets after I explode at it.

"Hey, Spidey!"

"Dammit! I said shut up!" It takes me a moment to realize that this is not, in fact, the persistent little voice in my head, keeping commentary.

"Okay… But Spidey, babe, did you really have to find me so soon?"

I turn to look at the man who I had shamelessly kissed just earlier today. "What do you want Deadpool?"

"You're the one hanging around my place Spidey."  **His place? So why didn't he sleep here last night?**

"I don't know. Why don't you ask  _him_?" I grab my camera and turn, but Deadpool is right there.

"That didn't even make sense Spidey," I remember belatedly that I'm insane and only I can hear the stupid voice.

"Just thinking to myself. Apparently out loud." I mutter the second part under my breath and he looks at me for a bit. "If you have a place to stay, why'd you crash my apartment?"  **Good, you asked!**

"Well duh, if I stayed at my place would I have gotten a Spidey-back ride?"  **IS THAT ALL? NOT okay!** I chuckle a bit, mostly at the voice's pain, but I also was agreeing with it completely at this instant in time.

"Well, gotta go." I swing to my apartment, deposit my camera, grateful that Deadpool hadn't noticed it or at least hadn't questioned me, and go out on patrol of the city.  **Hey, don't you have a picture of yourself and Aunt May on your desk?**  "Dammit! That bastard knows what I look like!"  **And your name. Homework, remember?**  "Dammit! That must be why he came over!"  **Too late to regret your stupidity.**  "You're me too! So if I'm stupid so are you!"  **I'm actually not you, and for that I'm glad, you're stupid** _ **and**_ **childish.**  "Hey!" The night was getting fairly long, so I called it a day. Too tired to change into pajamas, I pull off my mask and tug off my gloves and shoes. I curl up in bed and sleep restlessly, nightmares plaguing my mind in my unconscious state.

I wake up sweating and panting, not quite remembering the dream but knowing it was terrifying. Shaking off, I check the time, cursing as I roll off my bed and hurry through dressing myself.  **You should have remembered daylight savings stupid.**  "Well, if you remembered, you should have reminded me!"  **Why? I'm not suffering any consequences.**  I groan and try to ignore the little non-existent asshole as I make haste, attempting to get to lecture on time, which I just barely do.

 **You should probably stop daydreaming about Deadpool and start focusing on your professor or you're**   **going to have a hell of a time with the midterms. This sounds important.**  Temporarily forgetting that, even when talking to myself, others could hear me, I end up shouting. "Dammit! I'm not thinking of him!" The professor stops preaching about something to do with science for a moment and blinks at me. I apologize profusely before he continues on, dragging along the attention of my peers who had paused to look at me with confusion and curiosity in their eyes and small bursts of giggles on their lips. My face is almost as red as Deadpool's suit as I begin taking notes. I need to figure out how to respond to this mental addition without appearing mental.  **You don't have to talk, I'm in your head, I hear all your thoughts.**   _Thanks,_  I put all the sarcasm I can muster into that thought and send it out. "Could've told me that earlier." What was uttered out loud was a hushed whisper, so only two people gave me strange looks this time. I curse a bit, I'd have to get used to not talking now. After what seemed like forever, my only class for today was finally over. I walk out of the building, the less mature half of my class taunting me with joking questions about who 'he' is, I ignore them, walking on.

 **Very casual. Like nothing happened.**   _Yah, yah, keep on being sarcastic._  I sigh and get on the bus, hoping to take a nap upon my arrival home. I step out of the public transportation vehicle at my usual stop and make my way the few blocks to my apartment. When I was almost there, I feel a hand connect with my rear firmly, but not rough, and remain there.  **WHAT THE-?**  I yank myself around as quickly as I can only to see Deadpool.

"Jesus Deadpool! I thought you were a mugger!"

"What? Little ole me?" I turn to walk away sighing and pinching the bridge of my nose, hoping to quickly return to my bed awaiting me to create a little cocoon and sleep peacefully for a few hours, already done with him and his 'I'm innocent, why are you blaming me?' pose.

"Hey! Wait up Petey!" He grabs my arm and pulls me around to face him again. My knee-jerk reaction is to punch him. Thus I do so. The force pushes him back, but he doesn't appear injured in the least.

"Grab me one more time Deadpool and I swear I will web you into the next century!" I am so very annoyed, I want to sleep.  _I want to give in and let him grab me in any way he wanted._

"Please Spidey!  _Please_  web me!" He makes a slight yelp in a high pitched keen as he whines in a sensual voice. I groan, both in frustration and want, as I spin yet again and walk away for good. I can hear him following me, but it's not concerning, if he truly wanted to kill me, he would have done it already. As well as, if he only wants information, he already knows everything about me.  **Because you were stupid enough to leave out personally informative stuff when you invited him in.**   _I know, shut up._  Unlocking the door, I walk in taking off my coat and hanging it up on one of the hooks I have by the entrance. "Come on in."

"Really?" He sounds genuinely confused, surprised.

"Well, if I don't let you in, won't you just come in anyways? Break down the door or something?"

"Oh yeah." His tone makes it sound like he hadn't even thought of that, he simply smiles and walks in. "Did you eat all the pancakes?"

"Eventually. They were good and all, but was there really a need to make that many?"  **Seriously, there were like, a thousand.**

"Well I planned on eating too, but I figured you wouldn't want my company after…  _that_."

"Oh yeah…" My face goes a darker shade of pink, adding to the flush forced by the chilly autumn air. There's silence for a moment as we make our way to my room before he opens his mouth and speaks, sitting on my bed.

"Wade." I look at him in confusion, eyebrows furrowing together. "My name. It's Wade Wilson." He then does something that astounds me. He pulls his mask off and looks up at me.  **Oh my god…** _Shut up, he's… Wow._ Even in my thoughts, I'm breathless. "I figure it's only fair if you know who I am if I know who you are." His face, though clearly handsome, is plagued by the same sores that cover the rest of his body. His eyes are filled with fear, hope, sadness, and uncertainty.

"Well, thanks… Wade. Or, would you prefer me to call you Deadpool?" He shrugs like he doesn't mind either way. It feels weird knowing his name and calling him by it, strangely intimate, but I know that's crazy. "Wanna hang here today? I don't have anything else going on today until I have to go on patrol." I don't know why I'm trying to convince him to stay, ( _because you like him, you idiot!)_ , especially after our last 'sleep over'. He gasps, eyes lighting up.

"Like, like a… team up?"

"Sure, if you want to go with me. For now, wanna order some pizza? And no. No Mexican." His face slips into a slight pout but ultimately agrees. I call in to order then wait with Wade on the sofa, the TV is switched on to some cartoon on Boomerang, but I'm not paying attention, unable to focus with the man sitting so near me. Once the knock resounds through my small apartment, I spring up, snatching the required money from my wallet, fling open the door, exchange the food for currency, go back to Wade, place the small stack of pizzas on the old, water stained coffee table, and sit down beside the mercenary. Wade opens one of the flat, cardboard squares, releasing a tidal wave of the scent of garlic, cheese, perfectly cooked crust, and pepperoni, and pulls out a slice, munching on the triangle happily, I take my own piece and eat it slowly. A couple of pizzas and sodas (beers for Wade) later, we were on the couch, sitting faintly closer to each other, laughing and talking, not really paying any attention to the still running TV. During a particularly hard laugh session, I fall forward, flailing my arms in an attempt to regain my balance, but Wade catching me, making my efforts needless. I find myself sprawled across his torso with him laughing softly at me, my face grows red with indignation, but I end up laughing along. After a few moments, our chuckles die down the soft smiles and silence aside from the gasping for breath.

 _Now what?_   **Kiss him! You like him, you have for a while,** _ **show**_ **him!** I'm suddenly moving towards him. Before I can convince myself that no, this is  _not_  a good idea, my lips are meeting his and I can't bring myself to pull away from his heat.


	3. Damn Burrito Woman

_Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. What the hell? How did this even happen?_  I want to blame that asshole of a little voice in my head, but I know that's not fair considering that I'm the one who kissed Wade. And enjoyed it.  **Fucking finally! You're growing some balls, Petey! Good for you!**   _Shut the fuck up_. I try to angrily growl at the voice in my brain, but Wade's warm lips on mine and his tongue flicking against my own, it's difficult to remain angry at anything. Clutching to the fabric of his uniform against his chest, I moan softly into his mouth while moving my lower body closer. His left hand moves from my neck to my waist as he places his right hand on my left hip, gripping tightly and moving me even closer. "Wade…" I can't help but moan out as I trail my hands along his chest, fingers tracing the ridges of defined muscle outlined by the thin material of the tight clothing.

"P-Petey, I..." I take this opportunity to quiet him by straddling his hips and crushing my mouth further against his. Grinding my groin against his, I moan.  **Dammit, Peter! I know you never get laid, but calm the fuck down. You just seem like a desperate whore!**   _Sh-shut up…_  I groan as my [hardening](https://www.fanfiction.net/story/story_preview.php?storyid=11078754&chapter=3/#) member is stroked against him just right. Grabbing both of my hands in one of his, he stops my hips from gyrating and looks me in the eye. "No. I can't." I splutter over so many words that have no place in this conversation.

"What…. What do you mean?" [Dumbfounded](https://www.fanfiction.net/story/story_preview.php?storyid=11078754&chapter=3/#), my hands drop from his clothing and I relax the muscles in my legs so I'm sitting in his lap more than I am straddling him. "I… I don't understand. Wade..?" His face is turned away from me as he lifts me by my hips and places me back down on the couch. He stands, brushing his hands down the front of his costume to press out some of the newly formed wrinkles.  **Well damn. This sucks.**

His hands find my shoulders, his face inches from mine I can feel his breath against my cheek as he speaks softly to me. "I can't do this to you, Petey." With that, he turns and exits through the window before I can even begin an attempt to stop him. Once he's gone, I slam my fist against the nearest wall, followed closely by my head. "Dammit…."  **Well, your life just became** _ **much**_   **more interesting Petey.**  Growling internally, I curse the damn voice in my head.  _Only_ he  _is allowed to call me 'Petey'._   **Yah yah, calm down. If it matters that much, go after him.**  Yanking on my Spidey-form as quickly as I can, I launch myself out the window with a mental note to self to fix the new dent in the wall.

Swinging around the town, I search as well as I can for him, even [sending messages](https://www.fanfiction.net/story/story_preview.php?storyid=11078754&chapter=3/#) out to the Avengers and every other person in the loop asking if they had seen Deadpool. I was coming up completely empty handed with no trails, leads, or even guesses as to where he would be.  _Alright Spidey, think! If you were Deadpool, where would you be..?_   **Have you tried around the horrid Mexican joint you were dragged along to the other day?**   _Damn, I'm a genius!_  Jumping from the rooftop I was currently perched on, I make my way toward the taco stand.  _There!_  Spotting the red suit, I lower myself, landing beside him.

I pause to catch my breath and Wade simply continues on toward the young, dark haired woman standing behind the makeshift counter with a huge smile on her face. "Glad you come back!" She has a thick Spanish accent and her body language and sparkling almond shaped eyes are speaking volumes more than her words.

"WADE!" I finally seem to catch his attention as he pauses and turns his head to the side. "I'm sorry… I-I wasn't thinking and I didn't mean for it to happen, you were just there and perfect and all of a sudden we were touching and I couldn't help myself and I'm really sorry Wade… Please… Please… Let me make it up to you..?" The words tumble from my mouth and for some reason, tears start leaking from my eyes, damping and darkening the cloth covering my face. After a long moment of his silence, I bow my head and resign to my fate. After turning to leave I take a shuffling step away from Wade Wilson and toward the surprisingly empty street of New York when I hear his [voice call](https://www.fanfiction.net/story/story_preview.php?storyid=11078754&chapter=3/#) to me.

"Petey… Wait." His strong arms are suddenly around me, enveloping me in warmth and holding me to his muscular chest. "Just listen, okay?" Nodding my head, I lightly grip onto his forearm with both of my hands, squeezing just a bit. "I like you, really I do! You're a great kid, an amazing hero, but at the end of the day, you're a kid. I might do a lot of illegal shit, but I am not a child molester. I know Steve and Tony are your dads, I know how protective they are of you, but it finally fucking makes sense why." I open my mouth to argue with him. "No Petey. This is it. I can't." He lets go of me, [retracting](https://www.fanfiction.net/story/story_preview.php?storyid=11078754&chapter=3/#) his arm from my grasp and pulling away. The tears flow faster from my eyes, blinding me. By the time I turn to face him, he's gone. Dropping onto the cement on my knees. I simply sit there until I can finally breathe in air that doesn't smell like him. "Dammit Wade..." I can't seem to muster up more than a whisper as I shoot some webbing onto a building and lift myself off the ground.

Resting on the tallest building I could find on such short notice, I rest my chin on my knees, looking out over the horizon at the setting sun. The sky is shining a brilliant golden orange with streaks of a pink the same shade as Nesquick strawberry milk. I let out a sigh and glance down, over the edge of the building. One small nudge and I could be simply a bloody splatter mark on the ground…  **What the fuck are you thinking Peter?**  I ignore the damned voice and simply scoot off the edge. The air rushing at me is refreshing, sharp and cold, even through my mask. It seems to take ages before I even come close to the end of the fall but when I do, I launch out another web and swing safely to the next building over, continuing on, or perhaps only beginning, my patrol around the city.


	4. Out With A Bang

_Damn Peter, what are you thinking?_ **You're thinking that you want the Deadpool D?** _Shut the fuck up, I wasn't asking you._  Getting a moment to myself was near impossible with this asshole, so on the rare occasion, I did get one I definitely [milked](https://www.fanfiction.net/story/story_preview.php?storyid=11078754&chapter=4/#) it for all I could. It had been weeks since I'd last seen Wade, he'd definitely been avoiding me, and I couldn't blame him, not with the way I'd basically molested him last time I saw him. But he didn't even listen to me. His reasoning for not getting involved was sound but incorrect. He assumed, probably by my appearance, that I was underage and while, yes I look younger than I am, I really am twenty.  _And that bastard didn't even let me explain that!_   **There there dear, calm down.** _I thought I told you to shut up!_  Damn, I need to stop talking to myself… Really, I just need to find Wade, calmly explain things, then all would be well. Wait. I pause, freezing in the air for a moment before I swing too close to a building for comfort. Last time I ran into him he had said that was where he lived. _Holy shit! Duh!_  I circle the building my webbing was presently stuck to in efforts to turn around.  _Damn, why did I not realize this sooner?_ I swing to the building I learned that Wade called home and perched atop it. He had to come or leave sooner or later. I finally had him cornered!

 **Hey, Petey..?**  My head snaps up, looking for the red clad man before realizing that it was just the damned voice again. Growling internally, I choose to ignore it.  **You're starting to get a bit crazy. Tony and Steve have both voiced concerns you know.**   _Shut. Up._  After that, I simply refuse to acknowledge it.  _There!_  I finally see my target and launch forward, lowering myself from the building using my webbing, I fling myself onto the back of the mercenary, my hands link together and cover his eyes. "Guess whooo?" I let out in a sing-song type voice.

"Petey?" Wade sounds incredulous as he pries my hands off his face. "What gives, kid? Why are you here?" He lifts me down, off him as he turns to look at me.

"I was looking for you." I pout, slightly annoyed. "You didn't let me talk to you and now I'm going to cram my words down your throat. You didn't let me talk and explain to you. I'm twenty years old dammit! There is no worry for your concern, though it was really sweet. It was also so fucking frustrating. I get it, I look young, but dammit Wade! Don't assume shit! Do you really think my dads would let me go out and literally put my life in danger if they had a choice in the matter?" It really felt good to put this out there, and knowing he would doubt it, I even brought along ID. Pulling out my, kind of pointless, driver's license I point to the [date of birth](https://www.fanfiction.net/story/story_preview.php?storyid=11078754&chapter=4/#), December 28 of 1995. "Twenty. Years. Old." I pull the mask off completely and press my mouth against his still masked lips.

"Whoa Spidey, calm yourself," Wade speaks against my mouth. "What's going on? You okay there?" Dragging my hands down his face, I search for the edge of his mask to pull it off.

"Dammit, Wade! No, I'm not okay! I have no idea what I'm doing in life, I have voices in my head, I'm going crazy, and turns out I fucking love you too! The icing on the damned cake. Now shut the fuck up and let me kiss you." I lean in again, having found where the mask ends and rolling it up a bit, but Wade stops me with a hand on mine before tugging my hold off of him. Just as I'm about to start yelling at him in my rightful anger, he pulls his mask up on his own and presses his lips against mine.

"Quiet down Petey, you're gonna wake the neighbors." Taking my mask from me, he tugs it back over my head, covering my eyes. Leaning down, he pulls my legs up, around his waist. "Crime can wait for one night, right?" I nod crazily as I push my body further against his as he turns right back around and into his [apartment building](https://www.fanfiction.net/story/story_preview.php?storyid=11078754&chapter=4/#). He sets me down only when we reach his room and he tosses me onto his bed so he can struggle with yanking off his costume as I do the same. Once we were finally freed from the grasp and cling of cloth, we were touching once more, skin to skin.

***WARNING* THIS BEGINS THE SMUT *WARNING***

His mouth moves from my mouth down to the base of my neck, gasping, I cling to his [shoulder blades](https://www.fanfiction.net/story/story_preview.php?storyid=11078754&chapter=4/#), doing my best to pull him even closer to me. "W-Wade." I moan as his mouth explores lower, his tongue flicking over a nipple before he sucks it into his mouth, his right hand pinching and rolling the other while his left hand was already stroking over my hip. A little, uninvited, yelp left my lips as one of his fingers rubbed past my hardened member and stroked my entrance, now slicked with the lube he had apparently magically produced. Sliding said digit inside me, he moves slowly, gently as he once more begins to move down my body, his tongue still swirling along my over heated, over sensitive flesh, meeting his hands at my hips before moving inward, to a much more personal part of my body. He strokes my member all the way up before taking the head into his mouth and sucking gently, gliding his tongue over the very tip every so often. I gasp and moan and buck upward at the glorious feeling of his mouth as he begins to take me deeper past his lips. With his mouth on my cock, one hand fondling my testicles, and the other stimulating my prostate,  _When the fuck did he manage to fill me up with_ three _fingers?!_ , I was soon on the edge of falling off the cliff of pleasure head first. But he fucking pulled back. Off and out of me. "Wade.." I whine, just before he silences me with a scorching kiss.

"Kindly shut up Petey." He says in such a pleasant voice I can't help but obey. He rolls on a condom that he had magically poofed into existence or something, before slathering his own penis in lube. Pulling me over him, he positions me in a way that I'm straddling his hips, his cock just beneath my rear. I don't allow him to have any say in the matter, I simply slam myself down, groaning as his heat fills me up.

"Mmm… Wade." I lean down and kiss him as I bounce gently on top of him, creating some of the desired friction. His hands don't move from my hips, but he does tighten his grip considerably as he helps to lift and lower me onto him.

"Petey… This isn't your first time is it..?" My cheeks turn a bit redder as I duck my head into his neck and suck, semi-roughly, until a purple splotch appears. Nodding my head in approval, I deign to ignore his question and instead I flex in a way that causes him to gasp and has his head falling back. His short, blunt nails dig into my skin a bit, enough that they'll leave little crescent marks for a bit, but definitely not painfully. Presumably in retaliation, Wade repositions himself in a way that he slams his shaft right into my prostate and quickens his pace dramatically. Crying out in pleasure, I practically fall forward but catch myself on his wide shoulders before face planting into his chest, I throw back my head and moan out, loudly and lewdly, as he continues to batter me internally. Soon enough, I'm right on the edge of completion again and I reach down to quicken the descent to ecstasy. I stroke myself in time with his thrusts and soon I'm coming undone in his grasp. "W-Wade!"I gasp out his name, softly as I begin to spasm uncontrollably at the pleasure he wrought upon me with him joining soon after.

***END* THIS CONCLUDES SMUTTY SCENE *END***

After cleaning up, I'm snuggled against his chest and propped up on my side with one elbow, I draw unspecified patterns on his skin as I lean in to kiss him softly every so often. "Hey, Wade..?" I question as I look up to him, laying on his back with his other arm curled underneath his head.

"Yeah, Petey?" He looks down, his brown eyes meeting my own.

I spread my fingers out on his chest and cast my gaze down for a moment before returning it quickly back up and speaking softly. "I love you." Simply seeing the happiness that spread quickly across his face was enough to give me pause. How little did he hear those three words uttered?

"Love you too baby boy." He returns gently, kissing me just as sweetly.


	5. End With A Twist

_Damn Peter, what are you thinking?_ **You're thinking that you want the Deadpool D?** _Shut the fuck up, I wasn't asking you._  Getting a moment to myself was near impossible with this asshole, so on the rare occasion, I did get one I definitely [milked](https://www.fanfiction.net/story/story_preview.php?storyid=11078754&chapter=5/#) it for all I could. It had been weeks since I'd last seen Wade, he'd definitely been avoiding me, and I couldn't blame him, not with the way I'd basically molested him last time I saw him. But he didn't even [listen to](https://www.fanfiction.net/story/story_preview.php?storyid=11078754&chapter=5/#) me. His reasoning for not getting involved was sound but incorrect. He assumed, probably by my appearance, that I was underage and while, yes I look younger than I am, I really am twenty.  _And that bastard didn't even let me explain that!_   **There there dear, calm down.** _I thought I told you to shut up!_  Damn, I need to stop talking to myself… Really, I just need to find Wade. Wait. I pause, freezing in the air for a moment before I swing too close to a building for comfort. Last time I ran into him he had said that was where he lived. _Holy shit! Duh!_  I circle the building my webbing was presently stuck to in efforts to turn around.  _Damn, why did I not realize this sooner?_ I swing to the building I learned that Wade called home and perched atop it. He had to come or leave sooner or later. I finally had him cornered!

 **Hey, Petey..?**  My head snaps up, looking for the red clad man before realizing that it was just the damned voice again. Growling internally, I choose to ignore it.  **You're starting to get a bit crazy. Tony and Steve have both voiced concerns you know.**   _Shut. Up._  After that, I simply refuse to acknowledge it.  _There!_  I finally see my target and launch forward, lowering myself from the building using my webbing, I fling myself onto the back of the mercenary, my hands link together and cover his eyes. "Guess whooo?" I let out in a sing-song type voice.

"Petey?" Wade sounds incredulous as he pries my hands off his face. "What gives, kid? Why are you here?" He lifts me down, off him as he turns to look at me.

"I was looking for you." I pout, slightly annoyed. "You didn't let me talk to you and now I'm going to cram my words down your throat. You didn't let me talk and explain to you.

***HERE MARKS NEW MATERIAL AND SOME GORE***

Now it's your turn to be silenced." Pulling the shiny silver blade from the sheath hidden behind my back, I act as quickly as I can trying to get the metal lodged in his flesh before he can speak. I'm able to make my goal. Pulling the knife back out of his body before slamming it back in, I dance around trying to avoid getting hit while covering as much of his body in as deep of slashes as I can, every so often dragging the blade along with my movement to lengthen some wounds. He stands there, simply taking it. "FIGHT BACK DAMMIT!" This would be no fun if he didn't even  _try._  I wasn't stupid, my goal wasn't to kill him, he was more stubborn than a cockroach, he wouldn't die from something of this grade. I just wanted to make him pay. He continues to stay still.

"I'm not fighting you, Petey." He says softly, hissing a bit as I arch the blade down into his stomach.  **Come on Peter, stop this.**

"NO! He  _will_  pay!"  **For what? What did he do?** "SHUT UP!" I shout at the damned voice as my armed hand comes down on his shoulder, tearing through the skin and muscle. "FIGHT WADE!" I demand once more as he had remained mostly still. With that, he turns to face my current position and manages to grab my arm just before the blade touched him again. He pulls me forward, crushing his lips against mine before I manage to regain my bearings and push away from him. "IT'S TOO LATE FOR THAT!" I swoop in again, slamming the end of the handle against his head as hard as I can manage, as many times as possible, in as quick of succession as possible. Once he crumples to the ground, I kneel over him and run the sharp end of my blade across his cheeks, over his eyelids splitting them open and allowing blood to flow into his eye and cover the whites, turning them a dark red before I reach out, shoving my fingers past the squishy balls and curling around them before yanking my hand away from his face again. Severing the optic [nerves](https://www.fanfiction.net/story/story_preview.php?storyid=11078754&chapter=5/#), I place his eyes in the hollow below his throat. Slashing smaller cuts into his cheeks at the corners of his mouth, I tug swift and hard on his jawing, ripping his face further open. I can feel him coming to as I reach the climax of my performance. Grasping his tongue, I hold it up firmly as I slash through the thick muscle right as his eyelids twitch, a sign of consciousness along with a warbled mumble that can't be made out, I don't cut it all the way through, leaving a bit still attached. Pulling the pink appendage the rest of the way out of his mouth, I place it on his chest, below his eyes. Using my bloodied hands, I reach down, resting all my weight on his Adam's Apple, crushing it. "Maybe next time, you'll let me talk," I say softly as I hold shut his mouth and lean in to softly kiss his lips. Licking the blood from my lips and just above my chin, I let go of his face and leave him to deal with his healing.

I head back home, at my apartment I strip off my clothes, leaving my bloodied weapon on my desk to clean off later, I step into the steam of a hot shower. I wash off the blood that soaked through my costume and change into those Deadpool pajamas I had worn as I ate the chocolate chip pancakes Wade had made me. I toss the bloodied uniform into my laundry hamper before making my way back to the bathroom to wash the blade, not to rid myself of evidence, more to clean a mess I made. Walking back to the kitchen, I drag a notebook on my counter closer to me as I sit. Picking up a pen, I begin to write.

Finishing the letter, I stand once more and stretch. With a blank expression, I make my way to the drawer across the room from me. Opening it, I pull out my chef's knife. Taking it out from the protective sheath, I immediately slam it into my stomach five times before positioning it just above my heart and push it as far in as I can.

***END GORE AND BEGIN WADE POV***

Once I had finally finished mostly healing up from Petey's attack, I make my way to his apartment. I needed to talk to him, make sure he was okay. His sudden change in behavior worried me. He was never the violent type and even admonished me for using anything other than my fist in my fights.

Reaching my destination, I duck into the open window to his room. He wasn't there, weirdly. Or his bathroom, but he was home. I knew it. His Spidey suit was in the hamper. I open the door and make my way down the short, narrow hall, flipping on the lights as I enter the living area, he wasn't here either. I furrow my brows. He had to be here. Noticing a notebook open to a page with substantial reading material, I make my way over, succumbing to my mercenary type instincts to gather all information possible.

_Wade,_

_Hey there. I know there's really no way to properly apologize for momentarily becoming psycho, but let me try. I am so damn sorry. It was never my intention to hurt you in any way, let alone do something like that. I have no idea what came over me. I've been losing my sanity, slipping further into darkness for months. Since a damn asshole of a voice took up residence in my head. I was losing myself, becoming warped. I couldn't control my actions. It was like I was watching a movie or something. Like it wasn't real. I'm not trying to justify my actions, just trying to explain. You were gone for months, leaving me full of anger over our last encounter. What the hell was I suppose to do about that? The anger just grew, festered its way into hatred. I was scouring the streets, waiting for a run-in with you. But it never happened. Fucking asshole, avoiding me. When it finally hit me. Just wait at your place, you'd have to walk through sooner or later, right? And you were quick to exit. It just happened. How was I suppose to live with myself after doing that to you? After regaining myself minutes after attacking you? After completely destroying the love of my life? Yes, Wade. I still love you, that's why I did this. I don't expect, or even really want you to forgive me, please hate me._

_I'm sorry._

The letter wasn't signed, but it could only have been Peter. But where was he? Dammit! I tear the paper out of the spiral bound book and crumble it up in my fist. Slamming it back onto the counter top, I walk past, when I notice the blood pooled on the kitchen floor. "No." It comes out as nothing more than a choked whisper as I rush over to the defiled corpse of the man I love. "P-Petey?" I kneel beside the head of the bloodied beauty. Lifting the now cadaver, I cradle his shoulder, neck, and head against my chest, his upper back resting against my legs. "No… Why?" I press kiss after kiss on his forehead, on his cheeks, his lips. Anywhere, completely desperate, hoping beyond hope he might still be alive.

An hour passes, I finally resign myself to mourning. I leave Petey's side, taking the crumpled note with me.

I make a joint call to Steve and Tony as I leave the apartment, locking the door behind me. I never wanted this.

I make no mention of the note to anyone. I let them draw their own conclusions. People will be assholes even with the general consensus of respecting the dead. I've never seen anyone as heart broken as Peter's dads at the funeral. But they became hardened quickly.


End file.
